


The Castiel Effect

by APerfectGrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Library, Psychology, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:18:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2155386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APerfectGrace/pseuds/APerfectGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, the library isn't just for reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Castiel Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the following Tumblr prompt:
> 
> 'Imagine reading for fun as Castiel cuddles you from behind whilst you sit in between his open legs, but as you read along he begins to tease you, his hands wandering along your thighs and his mouth ghosting along your collarbone, leading to slow, sensual, incredible sex.'
> 
> A Castiel/Reader pairing.
> 
> Warning: Major sex in this. And profanity.

There was a theory that when someone died, Heaven would be modelled after the individual’s inner desires and wants.

For Dean, you imagined that his Heaven would be full of loud music, endless drink and skimpily-clad women. For Sam, you supposed that it would involve something freeing, maybe full of nature, somewhere he could be truly himself, relaxed, undisturbed by life’s chaos.

Your Heaven?

You were living it right now.

If you died and went to Heaven, this was exactly what you wanted it to be.

Shelves upon shelves of books, all waiting to be read by someone who thirsted for knowledge. An enormous, bay window covered in fluffy cushions, basked in soft sunlight. A huge cup of green tea. A large book resting against your legs, waiting for you to drink in its knowledge.

And Castiel, your angel.

Whenever you died, Heaven wouldn’t be Heaven if he wasn’t there with you.

You loved him, and he you.

It hadn’t been so in the beginning, what with the Apocalypse and the trust issues on both sides (thanks to previous relationships that went sour very quickly). Not to mention that Sam and Dean would unintentionally get in the way, regardless of their best of intentions in trying to get the two of you together. Finally, after a lot of stops and starts (and a whole load of running away from one other), you two had finally succumbed to the undeniable chemistry between the pair of you. Life was too short to be paranoid – it was better to risk the hurt than let love pass you by.

Which is how you had ended up with the dark-haired angel who was currently behind you, legs shadowing the outside of your own, his chin resting against your collarbone, his arms loosely wrapped around your middle as he read over your shoulder.

“The Lucifer Effect?” Castiel was inquiring with a raised eyebrow, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yes,” you answered, running a finger across the page you were currently reading.

“This is what you read for fun?”

You grinned, leaning your weight into him, feeling his broad chest hard against your back. “Yes. It’s fascinating. Zimbardo stumbled upon a fantastic phenomenon.”

Soft strands of hair tickled your ear as he hid his mouth behind your shoulder. “How so?”

“You already know this,” you chided him, elbowing him gently.

A warm breath puffed against the curve of your shoulder as he chuckled. “I know, but I would very much like to hear you explain it to me.”

“Why?”

A kiss was lovingly pressed to your temple. “Because your voice relaxes me. And I love the rise and fall of your tone when you explain something you love.”

Rolling your eyes but inwardly touched, you dropped your hands into the book and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against Castiel’s shoulder, his scent settling around you and his warmth seeping into your bones. His arms tightened ever so slightly around you, and he tipped his head to lean it against yours as you began to speak.

“Well, Zimbardo originally aimed to watch people in an effort to understand society more – he wanted to watch how people would react in certain situations. He set up an experiment where he got normal, everyday citizens and split them into two groups: prisoners and guards. Then, he observed their behaviour. He found that, by giving them such a label, participants would play up to the roles they were given, more so than he originally imagined. It was to such an extreme that prisoners would be beaten by the guards, by ordinary people who had normal jobs, because being hidden behind these labels freed them into a role without remorse. His experiment is one of the most important ones of social psychology – it was ground-breaking for its time.”

“Fascinating,” Castiel stated, and you could hear the humour in his tone.

“It is, and would be even more so if you stopped interrupting me so that I could read more about it,” you teased, winking up at him.

“My apologies,” he replied, returning the smile as he moved away a fraction. “Please, continue.”

Laughing to yourself, you shifted back into a sitting position and retrieved your book from your lap, settling in against him and picking up where you left off.

Pretty soon, you were lost in your own world. Books had a tendency to carry you away from the life you lived; you got so lost in the worlds you read about that more often than not it took a great effort to pull you back out of them.

Castiel didn’t mind – you two spent many a time in each other’s company without ever saying a word to one another. It was a testament to the strength of your relationship; you didn’t have to talk to enjoy your time together, just being in each other’s presence was more than enough.

Usually, he would read over your shoulder or read something of his own; you could both wile away hours like that, lost in thick volumes and printed words and steaming cups of tea (for you – being an angel didn’t require any physical nourishment), the silence like a comfortable blanket around the pair of you.

However, today Castiel seemed to have his mind somewhere else entirely, and unbeknownst to you, it involved _you_.

It started slow.

You barely registered it at first.

But at some point, when you were reading about Zimbardo’s set up for his experiment, the knowledge of a tingling sensation somewhere on your body began to perforate your mind. Blinking away the hazy sensation that came with reading, you zeroed in on the feeling, ascertaining that it was coming from somewhere below your torso.

It was Castiel.

He had barely moved, eyes still on the page you had open, but his left hand was softly stroking the outside of your knee, moving in gentle, circular motions that you had come to know extremely well.

Castiel was not someone who constantly indulged in physical affection, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t crave it. And he was _so very good_ at letting you know when he did. Like now.

You could feel the circular motions gradually cycle upwards, creeping up along your thigh.

“Castiel.”

“Yes?” His voice was low, setting a lovely hum in your blood.

It didn’t take a genius to know where this was heading, but you wanted to read. It was a long time since you had had the chance to do so.

“That’s extremely distracting.”

The circular motions stopped, and his hand retreated to his side with a low apology. Your leg suddenly felt extremely cold, and you almost wished that you hadn’t said anything. Almost.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely, turning your head to quickly kiss him on the mouth.

He barely had time to reciprocate before you had turned back towards your book. You couldn’t help feel a jolt of smug satisfaction at the small rush of air that left his mouth as you pulled away, that barely-there response that you knew meant he was very much wanting to play.

Unfortunately for him, you had other ideas.

You returned to your book, losing yourself in the words once more.

However, if you thought Castiel was going to let you off that easily, you were mistaken.

Barely five minutes later, his hand returned, lazily stroking patterns into the silky skin of your thigh. Nothing hard, just enough pressure to remind you that he was there, and that he wasn’t giving up that quickly.

_So, that’s how it is._

Well, if he wanted to play, you would be damned if you were going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he was distracting you. You kept your eyes on the page, forcing the sensation of his playful fingers out of your mind.

Behind you, Castiel grinned.

The hand that hadn’t moved, the hand that he still had resting against your stomach, leisurely opened to splay across the soft skin, the span of his large hand practically reaching from one end of your waist to the other. He began to move it slowly downwards, at a snail’s pace, towards the top of your shorts.

You found yourself mentally wishing he would reach your shorts faster. Annoyingly, he had definitely piqued your curiosity.

_No, don’t give in…_

Coughing, you readjusted your position, pouring concentration into your book but it was become increasingly difficult to keep focused.

Warm, long fingers inched their way across your skin, making heat pool thickly in the pit of your stomach. You could feel your skin rise in temperature where he was touching you, and you were suddenly acutely aware of breathing against the back of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine.

“Am I distracting you?” he asked in a mock-innocent voice that made you want to turn around and smack him.

_You know you are._

Instead, you steeled your voice enough to say, “Not at all.”

He chuckled, never ceasing his ministrations.

His left hand had travelled across your thigh all the way up to the hem of your shorts, and the tips of his fingers on the other hand were barely dipping under the elastic of the shorts. Your muscles tensed in response, and you could feel your body awakening rapidly under his touch.

The book seemed to feel heavier than before in your hands, and it was suddenly a great effort to hold it. Nevertheless, you held onto it, refusing to let your angel know the effect he was having on you.

All of a sudden, the hand ghosting the top of your underwear pulled out completely, and you let out a harsh breath that you didn’t know you had even been holding.

He laughed, all too aware with how he was making you feel.

“I thought you were reading,” he commented idly, his left hand rapidly disappearing under your shorts and ghosting the edge of your underwear.

“I thought you were going to stop distracting me,” you shot back, fidgeting against his curious hand.

“Hmm.” Fingers appeared at your breast, kneading gently and making you groan softly against your will. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“Castiel,” you breathed, your grip on your book becoming deathly tight.

“Yes?”

The hand on your breast pulled away, and you were ashamed to hear a loud moan leave your mouth in disappointment.

_Damn it!_

A moan left your lips once more as Castiel’s hand returned to your breast, but this time it made its journey underneath your shirt, snaking across heated skin, pulling down the lace of your bra cup and softly cupping the sensitive skin.

His name exited your mouth on a groan. “ _Castiel_ …”

“Read,” he suddenly commanded, fingers simultaneously thumbing your nipple and tracing the line between your sex and your inner thigh.

“W-What?” Was he being serious? How were you supposed to read with him doing this?

“Read.” His hand moved from your underwear down the length of your thigh and back again.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me. When I wanted to read, you wouldn’t let me, but now that I want you, you want me to read?”

“Yes,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You swore out aloud.

“Such dirty language,” he murmured, pinching your nipple as punishment and making your body jerk violently against his. You groaned savagely as you felt the hardness of his cock against the curve of your ass, making him grunt at the movement. Common sense left your mind as you blindly tried to reach behind you, determined to touch him, but an iron-grip closed around your wrist before you could reach your destination, making you all but whine. Your hand was firmly returned to the book, and for a brief moment you thought of picking it up and hitting him with it.

“Castiel–”

_“Read.”_

Practically screaming in frustration, you jerked forward, picking up your book and turning a page so vehemently that it tore. Angered and aroused, you batted back and forth between wanting to murder him and wanting to tear his clothes off.

_He just wants to tease you, idiot. Play him at his own game…_

Eyes cast intently on the page, you tried to shield yourself from his touches, whether as punishment or something else, you weren’t sure.

However, Castiel had a way of getting to you, and soon his hands were back right where they had been before, teasing and making your skin break out in goose pimples. Your thigh was on fire as he lightly scratched his nails along it, and your breast felt heavy and stimulated against his eager fingers.

“What are you _doing?”_ you whispered sharply to him, both loving the torturous pleasure and cursing yourself for it.

“Conducting my own experiment,” he responded smoothly, shifting his hand to rub you through your underwear.

Your mouth dropped open and your head fell back against the hard line of his shoulder. He took this as an opportunity and dipped his head down to your skin, tracing the line of your collarbone with his hot, wet tongue.

You groaned loudly, your hand flying up to fist the hair on the back of his head.

A vibration against your skin informed you that he was laughing at you, and he gently nudged your head back up with his shoulder, gesturing to the book once more.

“You know, I could just move,” you told him, a small bite to your words.

“But you won’t,” he replied confidently, stroking you outside of your underwear with his slender fingers.

You made a small noise of contempt, trying to focus on the words on the page and instead noticing just how wet you were becoming, your panties sticking to your skin where he was stroking you. It was too hard to read when he was whispering against your skin, suckling your neck softly and shutting down any rational thought you may have had.

“Where are you up to?” he enquired, his voice smooth like honey, sounding almost as if he didn’t have his hands all over you.

“The statistics,” you answered, breathing heavily.

“Tell me.”

“It was conducted at St – AH! – Stanford,” you said, jerking at the sudden pinch to your erect nipple.

“Go on.” A heated thumb soothed the sensitive area, and you could feel him start to rub himself against you. His mouth was against the back of your neck now, and your eyes slid shut in bliss.

“Twenty… twenty four males… out of seventy five were s…s…selected.” His erection felt like steel against you, and you wanted so much to reach behind you, but your mind was shutting down too rapidly to properly coordinate yourself.

“And?”

“And… and… and… it ran for… six – uuunnggg… six d-days – AH!” You yelled in surprise as Castiel unexpectedly locked his legs over your own and spread them outwards in one swift motion, effectively forcing your legs open with his own.

“And?” His tongue was flicking the end of your earlobe, drawing it into his mouth with his teeth.

“And it was – ahhhhh – it was… was terrible… people were psycho… psycho…logically damaged as aaaa – AH! – a result…”

The book went limp in your hands and a long moan escaped from you as Castiel dipped his fingers under your panties and into your wet folds, breathing harshly at the feel of your slick sex underneath his hand.

“Castiel, I don’t want to play anymore,” you breathed abruptly, not caring if he won, not caring if he lorded this over you because he was hot and hard against you and he was groaning against your ear and you needed him _so very much right now,_ or you were going to go out of your mind.

With a growl that went straight to between your legs, he plucked the book out of your hands and practically flung it across the room, apparently agreeing with you. The hand against your sex was driving you _crazy_ : fingers tracing the outside of your folds, rubbing the bud of your clit, dipping shallowly into your core before pulling back out and working a teasing rhythm.

“Castiel…”

Your sighs and moans and movements spurred him on, the aching tension between his legs increasing rapidly as he worked you against himself, pushing his legs down against the cushions to keep your legs as spread as possible.

His hand left your breast to work its way up to your jaw, fingers gently turning your head to expose your neck even more to his sensuous, hot mouth. If you hadn’t been sitting down already, your knees would have most definitely given way at the warm licks across your skin, peppered with butterfly kisses and sharp nips.

Your head turned inwards automatically and his mouth covered your own with ease, softly sucking your bottom lip in between his own. You groaned hard against him, his name harsh against your lips, and he smirked salaciously against your mouth as you threaded your fingers through his hair to anchor yourself to him.

His tongue ran along the seam of your lips, kissing you softly, all the while swallowing your moans. You realised with a jolt that he was deftly stripping you of your clothing, moving you with the barest of interruptions.

Shirt, gone. Bra gone. Shorts, gone. Underwear, gone.

You were completely naked against him.

You tried to turn to face him but strong hands held you still, keeping you in the crook of his arms. He continued to kiss you languidly, sensuously, heatedly, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Clothes. Off. _Now_ ,” you found yourself demanding of him, and he looked at you with dilated eyes, lust evident all over his face.

For a moment, you thought he would refuse, but you sighed as he began to oblige you. You never thought the sound of a metal zipper opening could be so immensely satisfying, but the sound of it made your mouth water in anticipation, and you were so very aware of how wet you were as Castiel shedded his clothes without even jostling you, now naked alongside you.

How he did that, you never knew, but right now you didn’t care as you felt his dick, void of any clothing, rubbing freely against the small of your back.

“Oh, fuck… Castiel…”

Unexpectedly, he withdrew his hands from you completely, repositioning them at the base of your spine and gently guiding you down onto your stomach. At the same time, he brought his legs closer together, giving your torso a platform to lean against. This turn of events left you on your stomach with your legs either side of his hips, the junction between your legs open and vulnerable for his use.

“Perfect,” he said hoarsely, his fingers tapping your ass gently.

“What are you – AH!”

You felt the tip of his dick probe your folds ever so slightly, and you gripped his legs tightly to stop from falling off of him.

But, instead of thrusting into you, he curled his hands around your hips and gently pulled you onto his dick, sighing as your slick folds gave way to let him in. He pulled you onto him unbearably slow, hearing you cry out all around him, not stopping until he was in at the hilt.

“Holy fuck…” you breathed against his legs.

“I suppose you could call it that,” he chuckled seductively, pushing your hips away from him, which in turn pulled you off of his cock, almost off of the tip before he pulled you back down, filling you up again.

This was a definitely a new position for you both.

He was resting against the length of the bay window, his back propped up on the wall whilst you were spread out underneath him, malleable to his desires. The position he had you in meant that his cock would rub tantalisingly slow against your G-spot, making sparks dance behind your closed lids. You tried to reposition yourself in an effect to push yourself against him, to set the rhythm that you so desperately needed, but his grip was like iron, and you couldn’t budge anywhere but where he wanted.

And that’s how he had you, fucking you achingly, teasingly slow in the bay window of the bunker’s library, pushing you away and drawing you back down on him, his eyes focused solely on watching himself disappear in and out of you.

And all the while, you moaned and cried out against his legs, the pleasure both too little and too much at the same time – slow enough for you to take in everything, too slow to be able to come.

“You’re as open to me right now as the books you love so much,” he grinned salaciously, leaning down to trace the curve of your spine with his tongue.

“The books you wouldn’t let me finish, you mean,” you retorted against a breath of pleasure.

“Don’t worry,” he purred. “I intend to let you finish this time.”

“How kind of you.” You pushed back against him, catching him by surprise, and in so doing swallowed him down all the way, a guttural groan escaping from him at the sensation.

Growing bold, you reached down in between his legs and cupped his balls, rolling them ever so gently in your hand. It was like a shot; his grip on you tightened to an almost painful level and he cried out loud, his head falling back and his breathing ragged.

Smirking at catching him off guard, you moved to lick him in the inside of his knee; soft, small licks that had him momentarily shutting down, effectively allowing you thrust back against him as you so pleased. You couldn’t help but feel proud at the grunts and pants that emanated from him when you combined everything together, hoping that he could feel the way he made you feel when he had begun to tease you.

“Am I distracting you?” you asked sweetly, mirroring his exact question earlier.

That seemed to reach through to him.

Eyes snapping open, he suddenly snaked a hand underneath your stomach to harshly pull you upright, back to his chest. He pushed his legs open like he had done earlier on, sitting you on top of his lap.

“Enough teasing,” he stated harshly, adjusting himself so that, while your heads were side by side, he was underneath you, the tip of his cock lining your entrance.

“ _Fuck_ –”

In your peripheral vision you saw a dirty smile playing on his lips, and he looked at you fervidly, heat glazing those blue eyes.

“If you insist.”

You turned your head to face his, your eyes half-lidded. Your mouth dropped open as he slowly pushed himself inside you once more, never breaking eye contact as he moved achingly slow, not stopping until he was seated in at the hilt once more.

Without even giving you a chance to adjust, he began to move, at first thrusting shallowly, almost lazily, but as the sensations began to build for both of you, his pace grew harder, faster, making you cry out in ecstasy.

His arm was slung across your middle while his other hand gripped your breast firmly. Your own arm covered his, while your other hand fisted his hair, drawing harsh pants from him as he thrust up into you.

You were dimly aware of repeating his name against his neck, over and over like your own personal mantra, your hips working against his, the sound of skin on skin filling the air as you felt that familiar feeling stir in your stomach.

“Enough… teasing…” he repeated through harsh pants, leaning to kiss you furiously, causing you to groan against his lips.

The hand around your stomach moved to snake down to between your legs, rubbing your clit, making you gasp against his mouth.

He laughed, changing the kiss so that your lips rested open against one another’s, swallowing each other’s noises of pleasure as you held onto each other, rutting and thrusting hard, the familiar build growing higher and higher.

You looked up at him, groaning at the sight of his feverish complexion, the spark in his eyes, the way his hair fluffed up in all directions (mostly thanks to you), the way he tensed and pulled and thrust against you. All that teasing had pushed you closer than you initially realised.

“Castiel… I… I’m…”

The hand not in between your legs found your free hand, lacing your fingers together lovingly.

“I know.”

You thrust harder against one another, feeling the friction everywhere. You could feel your orgasm circle just below the surface. Just a few more thrusts and…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Come for me,” Castiel whispered against your mouth, thrusting into you hard and pushing the hand on your sex down so that it increased the pressure, making his dick rub against your G-spot over and over.

It was the stimulation that you needed; seconds later you felt that feeling break, felt your orgasm release and shoot through every single nerve in your body, and you were moaning Castiel’s name to the ceiling as he worked you through your orgasm, sending waves of pleasure through you so intense you nearly blacked out.

You were still in the throes of your orgasm when he too reached the end, grunting and groaning loudly as he spasmed hard against you, shaking with the intensity of his climax as he held onto you for dear life.

It was a while before you could both muster the energy to talk.

“That was incredible,” you said breathlessly, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Not distracting?” he teased.

“Definitely distracting. I don’t think I’ll be able to read Zimbardo the same way again.”

He wheezed out a short burst of laughter. “Good to know.”

“So much for The Lucifer Effect. More like The Castiel Effect,” you joked, running your hands up and down his thighs.

“I like that,” he murmured, smirking.


End file.
